


where our hands and feet are here to stay

by zenelly



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Nakama, Nakamaship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/pseuds/zenelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OR: 5+1 cuddling fic, for the five times Luffy cuddles his nakama, and the one time it’s not (technically) one of his crew (yet).</p><p>Set in a nebulous time pre-Dressrosa</p>
            </blockquote>





	where our hands and feet are here to stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XiggyMatsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiggyMatsu/gifts).



> I blame this and dedicate this entirely to XiggyMatsu for being wonderful and introducing me/bugging me to actually give One Piece a shot. I'm 15 years late to the party, but I'm enjoying the hell out of myself, so thank you, Randi. I love this more than I could have ever anticipated, and I owe all of that to you ♥
> 
> Beta'd by [sa-mu-uu](http://sa-mu-uu.tumblr.com). Thank you, again, for all of your help!
> 
> Title from "Fall Underneath" by Snakadaktal

**1\. Zoro**

* * *

 

Sunlight beams, warm and constant, over the surface of the Thousand Sunny, and its warmth, along with the background noise of waves slapping against the wood sides and distant birds, form the basis of Zoro’s meditation.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Zoro lets his mind drift, following his blood from his heart down to the faint throbbing in his fingertips. He familiarizes himself with the feel of his callouses against each other, the whorls of his fingerprints catching roughly, for a few moments before stretching his awareness out further, past the bounds of his body. It aches slightly, like pressing on a bruise, as Zoro tries to force it out, cladding his body with it inch by black inch.

(Haki, Zoro allows himself a moment to think before he empties his mind again, is really fucking weird. Killing intent is much cleaner and less finicky in the long run. But then again, killing intent can’t quite do this, either.)

After he’s got a pretty solid hold of the feeling of the Haki surrounding his body, Zoro breathes in. Breathes out.

The black recedes with his breath.

Hold.

Breathe in, and Zoro painstakingly pulls it back to the surface again. Hold.

He does this in turns for a few minutes, pushing his awareness and control as he does. The more he does this, the better he’s going to get at cladding his weapons in it, and the better he is at that…

The sooner he can challenge Mihawk again.

As Zoro breathes, he becomes aware of a light clapping noise; the sound of Luffy’s sandals slapping the wood as Luffy makes his way around the deck. He seems pretty low energy for once, choosing to walk instead of hurling himself across the ship. It’s almost lazy, for Luffy. The clapping sound gets louder, closer. Then stops.

There’s a sound on the ladder to the crow’s nest. A rush of wind.

The wood next to Zoro creaks.

“Zooorrrooo.”

Zoro doesn’t move. He’s not moving, no matter what Luffy does. It’s training, he reasons. If he can keep his concentration, then he’s won. No battlefield on earth can be as annoying as Luffy.

Breathe out, and his Haki recedes.

Something pokes him in the cheek. “Ne, Zoro.”

Zoro sighs and cracks an eye open. Luffy is squatting next to him, forearms braced easily on his knees, wide grin splitting his face. Zoro closes his eye again. “What, Captain?”

(Okay, so maybe it’s just easier to let Luffy get what he wants before he gets obnoxious about it. Whatever.)

“What’cha doin’?”

“Meditating; what does it look like?”

Luffy hums and sits down. “Mmm. It looked like you were napping. So I just wanted to be sure you were actually awake for once. Ooh, ooh, can I meditate with you? Show me how to do it.”

“...If you even think you can, sure?” Zoro says, confused and amused in equal amounts. The idea of Luffy willingly spending time sitting still when he’s not on the lion’s head is completely ridiculous. “Cross your hands in your lap and breathe with me. Seven counts in, hold for seven, seven counts out, hold for seven, and let your mind drift, got it?”

“Yeah yeah,” Luffy says. “Breathe with you, close my eyes, ouummm, easy.”

Zoro shakes his head, a smile turning the corner of his mouth. “Alright, breathe in.”

For what it’s worth, Luffy follows his directions surprisingly well, and Zoro sinks again in the easy place between thought and action, aware of, but not concerned with, his muscles’ faint ache, the itch on his nose and ears, the sound of Luffy breathing beside him, the breeze across Zoro’s sunwarmed skin. And it’s simple and easy to let the minutes pass.

Zoro almost feels at peace.

The first hint that something is a bit off is a faint snore. It comes to Zoro’s attention, but he passes over it without more than a second thought.

Until, that is, something heavy and warm falls on his shoulder, and Zoro’s next breath is more exasperated than the last. He cracks an eye open, and sure enough, Luffy is slumped over, mouth hanging open, head tilting sideways to fall on Zoro’s shoulder. His fingers are threaded together loosely in his lap, twitching occasionally with whatever dream he’s having.

Of course.

Luffy snores again, louder this time, and Zoro snorts under his breath before shifting, careful to not jostle Luffy too much. His legs stretch out, muscles tight from being folded under him for so long, and Zoro leans back against the wooden sides of the crow’s nest, back relaxing as he finally lets go. Luffy is a warm weight on his shoulder, and Zoro’s lips quirk.

It’s the work of a moment to reach over and tug his captain into the circle of his arms and legs, and Luffy goes easily, boneless and completely at ease around his nakama. Luffy snuffles lightly, presses his face into the side of Zoro’s neck, and sleeps on. Zoro rests his cheek against Luffy’s hair, curls one hand around Luffy’s bicep, grounding them both.

Whatever, Zoro thinks, closing his eyes, warm from the sun and his captain resting against him. It wasn’t like this meditation wasn’t going to turn into a nap anyway.

* * *

 

**2\. Nami**

* * *

 

Nami’s pen scratches across the paper. The light is comfortable but low in the room, and Nami is so focused she can hardly hear her own breathing, caught in the careful work of drawing the exact dimensions of the crew’s most recent stop. She lifts her pen from the parchment, eyes it, double checks her notes and the scribbled sketch of the cape she made on the island.

Yes, that seems about right.

Now, two degrees north of that, and she can continue.

Frowning, Nami briefly wonders about joting down something about the island’s unusual proclivity towards large insects due to the increased levels of oxygen production. It’s not likely that she’ll end up landing the Sunny there again, really, but. She casts an eye up towards the deck and her reckless captain.

Makes the note.

It can’t hurt to be overly cautious, Nami figures. Especially since she has to take into consideration the recklessness of over half of the crew she’s ended up with.

Sometimes, Nami wonders if this is what she thought she would be getting into. Overthrowing countries seemed exciting the first time, but the fourth or fifth and it becomes something a bit more old-hat. Honestly, Nami would kill for there to be a time where the Straw Hats could stop on an island and leave without something exploding or someone dying. It hasn’t happened yet but.

She can hold out hope.

The door opens behind her and Nami twitches. It closes a moment later, there’s a scuffling noise as Nami turns in her chair, and then her legs are getting shoved aside as someone dives below the desk. Her knees end up splayed painfully against the wood panelling, with someone’s shoulders pressing against her ankles at a very uncomfortable angle.

“SorryNamiI’llonlybedownhereforasecond!”

Nami looks dead ahead, lets out an agitated breath, and is profoundly grateful that today is a day she’s chosen to wear shorts instead of a skirt. Not that the person under her desk would care, but it’s the principle of the thing.

For several moments, nothing happens.

Then the door opens again.

“Hey, Nami, have you seen Luffy?” Usopp asks, and he flinches just a little (as he should) when Nami turns around smiling.

“No, I haven’t, actually. Have you forgotten the rules about barging in while I’m working on my maps?” she asks sweetly.

Usopp swallows audibly, shakes his head, and closes the door behind him.

Nami waits until his footsteps fade completely. She leans over, looks under the desk. “Alright, I’m waiting for my explanation, Luffy.”

Luffy grins up at her, wide and bright, pulling his trademark strawhat off of his head and into his lap. “We’re playing Hide and Seek, duh. And no one ever bothers you in here and Sanji won’t let me into the pantry.”

“Probably because you’d eat everything.”

“Mnnrgh, maybe. Not my fault I’m hungry and there’s so much food there.”

Nami shakes her head, trying to hide a fond smile and failing miserably. “So instead, you came to bother me?”

Luffy nods enthusiastically, pulls his knees up to his chest. “You got it. I’m just gonna stay here while we play, okay?”

Well no, it wasn’t okay, because Nami knew that the instant Luffy got bored, he’d flip the desk over and go barrelling out of the room at top speed, probably in the middle of some important inking that Nami was going to do, but it also wasn’t quite worth the fight it’d be and the headache it would bring her to try kicking him out. Plus, Luffy wasn’t really asking for permission in the first place. She sighs. “Just stay still, then. Let me put my legs back under, and you can wait around until the coast is clear.”

“Hehe, thanks, Nami!” Luffy stretches accommodatingly so Nami can sit comfortably again without her legs on either side of Luffy’s shoulders.

Surprisingly, he behaves well enough. Sure, he shifts a lot and ends up moving so his cheek is pillowed on Nami’s thigh and he can blink almost sleepily up at her, but he’s not obnoxiously loud. Nami gratefully continues her work on the map.

Luffy hums, the vibrations rumbling her skin. “What’cha working on?”

“A map, Luffy.”

“Well duh, but what map? Which cool place is it?”

She rolls her eyes, fills in the marking for the forest on the island. “The one with the bugs that we were at yesterday.”

Luffy’s arm loops around her calves, and Nami looks down to see him grinning again, cheek smooshed against her leg. “Make a note on there to go back. That island was really cool.”

“We almost died.”

“Eh, it wasn’t that bad, Nami. C’mon, it was fun.”

Okay, breathe slowly so the rage calms down. “Luffy,” Nami says slowly, “Chopper and Sanji won’t be happy if we go back, and if they’re not happy then you can’t get fixed up and Sanji won’t make you delicious food.”

Luffy squints at her suspiciously. “Sanji’d feed me anyway.”

“But he’d feed you vegetables,” Nami says.

“Blech!” Luffy sticks his tongue out, and Nami gives in to the urge to stroke his hair, inky dark and stiff from the salt in the air. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“He would if I asked him to.”

“Fine,” Luffy says petulantly, drawing the word out with a heavy sigh. He pushes his face into her hand like a cat. “Then just make a note to send me, Zoro and like, Franky back. He’ll enjoy it, I bet.”

“Alright, alright. If you’re so eager to go back and get your ass kicked.” Nami sighs, but does mark it down for “private exploration - L, F, and Z.” Her crewmates are crazy.

Luffy wiggles closer to her happily, arm still wrapped around her calves, hand warm on her ankle, and maybe having him here isn’t too bad of a distraction after all. Nami’s hand cards through his hair again in the low lamplight, and Luffy keeps up a small amount of quiet friendly chatter as the evening moves slowly on.

* * *

 

**3\. Chopper**

* * *

 

Fire blazes on the sand, and Chopper delicately navigates his way through the crowd, dodging flailing limbs and stamping feet, keeping his platter of food close to him.

It’s a party, because of course it is. If there’s one thing the Straw Hats are known for besides accidentally overthrowing various governments and/or dictators, it’s the parties that come afterwards, where Sanji is roasting food for hours, and Nami is dancing, and Zoro is drinking over half of the party under the table. Robin is sitting to one side of the bonfire, talking with the local village head, probably getting a complete rundown of the history of the place, gesturing with too many hands. Chopper can hear Usopp telling his typical wild tales, and above the ruckus, Franky and Brook are singing, loudly, wildly.

Chopper has never been so happy.

(He thinks that every time they come out alive and mostly unscathed. They survived again, they made a difference. He’s happy.)

Beside him, a pile of meat moves.

Chopper stands on his tiptoes to peer over it, catching sight of the brim of his Captain’s hat, and he smiles. Taking one hoof off of his food, Chopper waves, his lateral and medial claws clicking slightly. “Luffy! Can I sit with you?”

Luffy takes his face out of the hunk of meat he’s gnawing on long enough to nod, and Chopper happily scurries over. Luffy grins at him, cheeks oddly distended from the food in his mouth, and then gets back to business tearing the meat in front of him apart.

It’s a few peaceful minutes that Chopper gets to spend there, close enough to Luffy to not worry about getting trampled (though he does have to keep his plate fairly far away from Luffy’s maw), and Chopper swings his legs idly as he looks around and munches on his food. Nothing much has really changed, except for Nami joining Zoro in his quest for actual inebriation. He has a bit of a head start on her, but it seems as though she’s taking that as a bit of a personal challenge.

For a moment, Chopper mentally adds “Hangover Remedies” to a list of things to do tomorrow morning.

Then he remembers who his crewmates are.

Nevermind.

They’ll be fine.

Chopper reaches out with his hoof to grab some more food, and his claws clack together as he encounters nothing but air. He blinks, looks down. At his empty plate. Huh, he was sure this plate had a few more pieces of Sanji’s shish-kabob on it…

Wait.

“Luffy!” Chopper cries, and sure enough, the last stick is being pulled out of his captain’s mouth, completely devoid of food.

Luffy smacks his lips a few times, nose wrinkling. “That meat tasted weird.”

“That’s because it was vegetables, not meat!” Chopper picks disconsolately at his plate.

“Hm, yeah that’s probably it,” Luffy says. He leans back, letting out a quiet sigh and patting his stomach. “Ugh, I’m stuffed.”

Chopper looks askance at him.

Luffy grins. “I just need a bit of a breather. Sanji has to finish cooking first, or else he tries to keep me from the food, and that’s a pain in the ass.”

“That’s true,” Chopper says. He hides a yawn behind one hoof and rubs at his eyes. He’s actually full, Luffy’s food-theft aside, and the heat of the fire can reach him even all the way over here. It’s loud and boisterous around Chopper, a plethora of smells and sounds, but it’s relaxing. It’s happy. They haven’t had a lot of happy in a while.

Chopper yawns again. Beside him, Luffy starts bouncing in place, energy brought back up by his wait for food.

Then gently, Chopper tips sideways, slumping over to rest on Luffy’s shoulder. Luffy freezes, and there’s a moment where Chopper almost sits back up again, but it passes when Luffy moves his arm, pulls Chopper in towards his chest. “Are you tired already?” Luffy asks.

Chopper squints up at Luffy, jabs him in the side where Chopper had patched up a cut earlier. “I was a bit busy saving your lives earlier. I think I can-” a long, jaw-cracking yawn, “-be excused for being a bit tired.”

“Hah! That’s for sure. Thanks, Chopper.”

“S’no problem, I’mma doctor,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I’m not easily flattered, shut the hell up.”

“Hehehe, sure, sure.”

Ah, the fire is so pretty like this, Chopper thinks, his eyes closing slowly until all shapes are distant blurs, indistinct through his eyelashes.

Chopper only distantly registers that he’s being lifted, but he’s aware that he doesn’t go far, that he ends up with an ear pressed against Luffy’s chest, where he hears his captain’s heart beat going strong. Chopper shifts, looks up.

“Are you alright?” he asks sleepily, and a hand is smoothed down his shoulder, eliciting a quiet sigh. His eyes flutter shut. It is an effort of will that makes him drag them open again, heavy and thick as molasses, to try and focus.

Luffy is staring ahead into the bonfire, and Chopper can see his eyes flicker, checking the position of each of his nakama, and a smile is curling the corners of his mouth. Almost absently, Luffy pets Chopper again, holding him just that much closer. “Everything is fine, Chopper. Go to sleep,” Luffy says quietly, all of his prior nervous energy somehow grounded out.

(It’s a remarkable change that comes over Luffy sometimes; times when he gets so deadly still, firm-footed and straight-backed; times when he faces certain death again and again only to emerge bloodied, battered, alive, victorious; times when he yells at a reindeer-boy he barely even knows to get on an unfamiliar ship; times when Chopper goes. All of that to reconcile with the same person who sits on their figurehead and wants little more than meat, adventure, and friendship.)

Safe, safe, so safe with Luffy’s arms around him, Chopper mumbles an agreement, presses his nose into the upcurve of Luffy’s collarbone, and does as he’s told.

* * *

 

**4\. Robin**

* * *

 

It’s early still, light only barely creeping over the horizon. There’s faint noise coming from the kitchen, a soft plume of smoke, wafting the beginnings of delicious smells over the deck of the ship, and Robin inhales the fresh salt air as she walks out onto the lawn of the Thousand Sunny. There’s always something she loves about the smell of the ocean in the morning, something clean and cool and refreshing.

The galley door above her opens, and Sanji leans out. “Robin-chwan! I see you are beautiful as ever this morning,” he says with a flourish.

Robin smiles. “Good morning to you too, cook-san. How are you?”

“Never too busy to admire beauty such as yours! Breakfast will be done relatively soon, but if you’d like some coffee to tide you over…” Sanji trails off, smiling around his cigarette, and Robin nods, ignoring most of his flowery language.

“Coffee would be lovely.”

Sanji’s smile widens, and he bows, presenting an already-prepared tray, a steaming mug of coffee almost delicately placed in the center. “I thought as much. It should still be warm, and made just the way you like it.”

Robin’s smile turns larger, slightly more genuine, and she takes the mug gratefully before wishing the cook goodbye for now. He waves, turns back to the kitchen, and Robin descends the stairs, careful to not spill any of her coffee. She stops on the grass lawn, stretches her toes out. Breathing in the salt air again, Robin takes a sip from her mug of coffee, adjusts her grip on her books as she heads towards her chair, and one eyebrow raises as she gets closer.

There appears to be someone already in her chair.

Robin shakes her head, a small smile curving her lips.

“Luffy, you are in my spot,” she says simply once she comes to a stop, and one of Luffy’s eyes cracks open. He doesn’t bother lifting his head from its position resting on his arm; in fact, he just stretches, fingers and toes spreading wide as though he were some variety of cat.

He grins up at Robin, still squinting though his spot on her chair affords him no end of shade, and Robin sighs internally, amused. “I am,” he agrees.

“Will you move so I can sit down?”

Luffy seems to consider it for a moment, then he sits up with the strange kind of boneless grace she’s long since come to associate with him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Robin waits while Luffy swings his legs off of the chair, pushes himself up, brushes off, plops down on the grass lawn right next to the chair, and flops out again. Then, delicately, she sets her mug of coffee onto the table beside her, lays her books down, and stretches out herself. Robin picks through the titles of the books she’s brought. Ancient War? Maybe. Agriculture and Its Varied Effects on Government? Robin casts an eye at her current company and puts that one down to be read when Luffy has gotten bored of being here and has gone off to bother someone else.

Absently, Robin picks up the book on war again. She opens it to a previously bookmarked page. “Luffy, what are you doing up so early?”

“‘m hungry, but Sanji said I can’t have any of the bacon yet and he already kicked me out of the kitchen twice for trying to eat things, so I’m waiting.”

Robin looks over the edge of her book. “You could just go back to sleep.”

Luffy leans his head back to stare at her. Then scrunches up his face. “Yeah, but Zoro farted in his sleep-” (It’s all Robin can do to muffle a startled laugh, because that is awful but so very predictable at the same time.) “-and it stinks so bad I can’t breathe in there until it airs out. I was gonna sleep up in the crow’s nest, but Chopper won’t let me, and he won’t let me sleep in his office either, so,” he shrugs eloquently.

Robin shakes her head, laughing helplessly as she pats the chair beside her. “Come here, then.”

Eagerly, Luffy wiggles up into the space she’s left for him, wiry and limber and just the right amount of warm pressed into her side. Luffy loops an arm around Robin’s torso, resting his head on her shoulder, and she feels him curl his fingers into the soft fabric of her shirt. He blinks, his eyelashes tickling the skin of her shoulder. “What’cha reading?”

“The history of a particular island in North Blue. Would you like to hear it?” Robin asks, conjuring a spare hand or two to hold the book in a way they could both see, while she strokes Luffy’s hair, undoing any knots she comes across.

“Does it have adventures? And treasure?”

“Captain, there are always adventures and treasure to be found in history.”

Luffy nods, but he’s not really looking at the book, Robin finds. His eyes are tilted up to her, dark and interested, waiting, as ever, for a new adventure. “Cool. Then tell me about them.”

And Robin smiles and tells him about the island.

* * *

 

**5\. Sanji**

* * *

 

“Saaaaaaannnnjiiiiiiiii.”

“No.”

“But Sssssaaaaannnnnjjiiiiiiii!”

“Definitely still no.”

“But I’m hungry…”

Sanji sighs, flipping his hair out of his face before he checks the vegetables sauteing on the burner. “You ate an hour ago. You ate enough food to satisfy you for three hours an hour ago. You can’t possibly be hungry already.”

In Sanji’s peripheral vision, he spots a hand creeping, slowly, towards the fridge. Of course. Trust Luffy to try and sneak food while wheedling more. Honestly, Sanji doesn’t know why he bothers sometimes. Luffy whines, “But SAN-ji, I’m hungry now! You wouldn’t let your captain go hungry!”

“As a matter of fact, no, you’re right,” Sanji says, as though the thought just occurs to him. “I wouldn’t let you starve. But if I don’t keep you under control and make sure you don’t eat everything, then, well. Everyone would starve. You need to learn how to not devour everything you see.” Casually, Sanji moves towards the refrigerator, just close enough that if he were to extend his leg like so, he could just deter Luffy. With a well-placed kick to the hand. Nothing the captain hasn’t suffered before.

Luffy snorts, chin dropping to his hand, a disconsolate moue curving his lips. “You need to learn how to cook faster, you mean.”

Sanji twitches. If the twitch sends his heel slamming down into Luffy’s hand a bit harder than he initially intended for it to, well. That’s Luffy’s fault. Primly, Sanji walks back over to the stovetop, picks up his spatula. “I cook with both speed and quality, you uncultured garbage disposal. If you ever kept your hands to yourself, maybe I’d make you snacks too.”

“Liar!” Luffy protests.

Sanji cocks an eyebrow at him over his shoulder, daring him to continue.

There’s a long moment, where the only sound is Luffy nursing his bruised hand with quiet curses. Sanji stirs the vegetables again, turns around to view his captain. Luffy makes a face at him, thumps his heels against the floor, apparently having decided that Sanji’s silent threats aren’t enough to deter him. “You wouldn’t! You only make snacks for Nami and Robin no matter how nice anyone asks.”

Well, yes, that much was very true.

Not that anyone actually asked nicely, that is.

“That,” Sanji says, “Is because they are beautiful ladies and should be waited on hand and foot. You and the others, meanwhile, are barbarians who would probably be okay with roasting a lizard on a stick and calling it cuisine.”

Luffy hums at the same time his stomach lets out a terrifying grumble, face slipping out of his hand and landing with a soft thunk on the table. “Lizard does sound pretty good.”

Oh god. Sanji takes the vegetables off heat, before he dumps them into a sauce he made earlier. They’ll sit for a bit, and then he can get started on the meat. Good, good, everything’s coming together as it needs to. Now that he’s at a point where he can rest, Sanji sits down at the table, presses his feet against Luffy’s, surprised about how warm they are. “Look, I’ll figure out something to keep you satiated, alright? You just have to be patient.”

“I’ll be patient when I’m dead,” Luffy grumbles, flopping over to rest his head on Sanji’s shoulder. Sanji doesn’t protest this, just lights up a cigarette and leans back in his chair.

How he didn’t expect to have Luffy crawl into his lap is beyond him, honestly. He should have gotten used to Luffy’s insatiable need to cuddle by now. Sanji rolls his eyes, pushes not-so-gently at Luffy’s arm with the hand not holding a cigarette. “Get off of me, you clingy bastard.”

Luffy rubs his face against Sanji’s neck and shoulder, affectionate. “Mnnnno, I won’t move until you make me food.”

“Luffy, I have to get up and start cooking in just a few minutes.”

“Then you shouldn’t’ve sat down again, duh. C’mon, just like, a steak or something. Nothing difficult. Just a few pounds of meat just for me!” Luffy pokes Sanji in the side once, twice when Sanji twitches away from one of the pokes with a faint laugh. “You’re ticklish?”

“No, I’m not,” Sanji says firmly, still trying futilely to get Luffy to just let go. “And I’m not making you steak for a snack, Luffy. Get off I have to stand up.”

“Yes, you are, and I’m coming with you!” Luffy declares.

“What? Luff- no, no, get off, Luffy no!” But it’s really no use, because when Sanji manages to force himself upright, Luffy is clinging to him like a limpet, legs hooked around Sanji’s hips as he laughs and laughs and laughs.  “Ugh, fine, whatever, do what you like, just don’t eat anything. Or get in the way of my hands. Don’t touch me. Or anything in the kitchen.”

“Shishishi! I promise nothing!”

(Franky looks into the kitchen later and only barely blinks at the sight of their captain piggybacking on Sanji, hands tied together behind him as Sanji cooks the meat. Sanji would be embarrassed, but honestly, it’s a little nice to have Luffy’s chin on his shoulder, hair tickling his cheek, jabbering away as Sanji quietly lets him steal morsels here and there.

Zoro, when he sees a second later, starts laughing, and that’s the point where Sanji’s temper breaks. Luffy whoops, loud and boisterous, as he gets to go along for the ride when Sanji executes a perfect pivot to slam his heel into Zoro’s side.)

* * *

 

**+1. Law**

* * *

 

Luffy breathes in, smelling the dirt and fresh soil of the grass lawn. That, mixed with the salt of the sea and odor of the varnish coating the sun-warm wood of the Thousand Sunny, fills Luffy’s lungs in a pleasant, all-too-familiar mix. He inhales again, deeper this time, just to feel the prickle of his skin as he does, goosebumps spreading down his body in a rush of visceral pleasure.

God, he loves this ship.

Happily, Luffy wiggles on the grass, rolls over to look up at the masts reaching high above him, and beyond, the bright blue sky dotted here and there with wide, puffy clouds. He closes his eyes, listens to the creaking wood and snapping sails, the hollow rushing of wind at their back. He listens, also, to the quiet footsteps headed his way.

“What in the world are you doing, Mugiwara-ya?”

Luffy curls the brow of said hat to shade his eyes, and Law’s scowling face becomes visible now that the sun isn’t completely blinding him. “I’m lying on the deck?”

“That much is obvious,” Law says, dry and put-upon, leaning back now that he has Luffy’s attention, and Luffy grins.

“Then why’d you ask?”

Torao sighs, tucks his hands further into the pockets of his pants, like that’ll somehow discourage Luffy from prying. “Well, you were rolling around the deck like an idiot, so I was wondering if something was wrong or if you were just being… you, I guess.”

Luffy catapults himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs up to use their momentum instead of pushing himself up the boring way. “Torao, it’s alright if you were lonely and just wanted to talk.” Law looks like he’s about to interrupt, so Luffy continues without giving him much of a chance. “Besides, if something was wrong, I probably would have kicked its ass already,” he says, matter-of-fact. It’s not bragging, just confidence, but Law’s face screws up slightly at it, his mouth ticking sideways into a frown.

“There are some things you just can’t win against, Mugiwara-ya.”

“None I’ve found so far. And if I can’t beat them, which I totally can, that’s what my crew is for! Right, Zoro?” Luffy asks, just as Zoro walks onto the deck, scratching his ear.

Zoro, without a moment of hesitation, answers, “You’re damn right.”

Luffy looks up at Law, grinning. “See?”

Torao flicks his gaze between the two of them, mouth still cocked to the side. With a long, heavy breath, he closes his eyes. “Did you even hear what he actually said before your name, Zoro-ya?”

“Not a word.”

Law sighs heavily. He’s wearing an expression of combined disbelief, confusion, and absolute resignation that Luffy has gotten pretty good at detecting (and causing), and it’s never failed to make Luffy laugh. “See?” Luffy says again, reaching up to poke Law in the side. “I know you guys have my back.”

Batting his hand away almost absently, Law shifts, tense. “For the last time, Mugiwara-ya, I am not part of your crew. Stop counting me in with them.”

“Eh, you’ll come around. They always do.”

Law lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his eyes harshly. “You’re going to give me a complex at this rate.”

Luffy just laughs, head thrown back to the endless blue sky above them, reaching out as though he could grab it all. He lets himself overbalance, falling back onto the grass with a soft thump. Everything is great. Well, not great, exactly, they still have a lot of stuff to do ahead of them, but his nakama are all here, and if there’s one thing Luffy knows, it’s that they’ll always make it through. Come hell or high water, or several super-powered megalomaniacs and their lackeys bent on wrecking his crew before they can be wrecked themselves.

(Luffy actually knows several things in a similar way that he knows this fact. Like the fact that if he goes rushing into battle, none of his crew are going to leave him to go in alone, and that if he whines just enough at Sanji, he’ll get food. Or how he knows that Law is actually really baffled by the casual nature of their crew-family, but really wants to be part of it.

Like how Luffy is going to be the Pirate King, but that much is a given these days.)

To all of that, though, Luffy closes his eyes, cocks his hat just that much further down over his eyes, flops all of his limbs out so he can soak up the most sunlight, and settles himself in for a nap. Maybe Zoro will join him again. That would be nice.

Torao’s continued stare warms the side of Luffy’s face. Finally, Torao asks, “Are you going to sleep?”

“Yep,” Luffy says with a long yawn.

“Right here on the lawn.”

Luffy isn’t even going to open his eyes for this. Really, Torao should have figured it out by now. “It’s warm and I don’t wanna move.”

Law mutters, “Incredible.”

But the only noise that comes after is the soft rustle of clothes shifting, wood creaking, then a hesitant step in the grass right before Luffy is manhandled onto his side.

“Torao?” Luffy asks sleepily, and there’s a faint exhale that stirs the soft hairs on the back of his neck.

“Shut up, Mugiwara-ya,” Torao mumbles.

There’s a moment where Luffy almost considers not listening to Torao, considers asking him what he’s doing. But Law is warm, tucked up against Luffy’s back, his long torso and longer legs curving along Luffy’s body easily and comfortably, and there’s a sort of static-gravity in the places they’re touching that makes Luffy loose and relaxed. He just wants to rest back into it and let himself drift.

After all, it’s only Torao. He’s nothing to worry about.

So he closes his eyes and snuggles backwards, pulling Law’s arm tight across his torso, basks in the setting sun and the heat of his nakama. And if Law pulls him a bit closer too, well. They are nakama, after all. Even if Torao hasn’t said so or admitted it yet. Luffy knows. Same as he knew with everyone else, bone-deep, certain and stubborn.

Luffy closes his hand around Torao’s wrist and falls asleep to the sound of waves, the gentle rocking of the Thousand Sunny, the smell of grass, salt, and family.


End file.
